


Bewinged and Beloved

by Unforth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dean Doesn't Expect to Grow Wings, Dean grows wings, He's Pretty Okay with It Though, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Surprise Body Modification, Top Castiel, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, Wing Oil as Lube (Supernatural), Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29110410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: When Dean's back is suddenly assaulted by pain, the last thing he expects is for Cas to inform him that he's sprouted fuckingwings.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 23
Kudos: 268





	Bewinged and Beloved

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Окрыленный и любимый](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29580942) by [Magdalena_sylar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magdalena_sylar/pseuds/Magdalena_sylar), [WTF Winchesters and Angels 2021 (JackWin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackWin/pseuds/WTF%20Winchesters%20and%20Angels%202021)



> To the anon who requested wing kink...I know this starts a little "out there" but my brain just wouldn't let go of this idea. I hope you like it, since I can't escape the feeling it's probably not quite what you had in mind.
> 
> Also apparently when I try to plot 1k fics they pretty consistently end up 1.5k. This is happening enough that I guess I'm just gonna have to accept it, sigh.

A horrible tearing pain seared through Dean’s back. Choking back an agonized scream, he fell to his knees, reaching instinctually for the source of the pain.

“Dean?” Cas exclaimed, dropping to his knees at Dean’s side. “What’s happened?” A strong hand supported Dean’s front and kept him from writhing on the ground. Dean tried to answer, but another burst of pain, like claws raking flesh, like knives buried in organs, like Alastair grinning and asking what he wanted next, reduced him to sobs. 

“Dean...I...I’m here, Dean…I’m…” Tracking what Cas did was difficult over the sudden, inexplicable assault on Dean’s senses, but he thought Cas embraced him - thought Cas wrapped arms around his back - thought Cas looked everywhere  _ but  _ at him - thought--

Fingers brushed over Dean’s rent back, and he tensed, a scream caught in his throat as a high-pitched whine...but there wasn’t any pain. The agony lessened, and Dean was able to support himself, to lean back, to look up and try to interpret the wondering look on Cas’ face.

“The fuck is going on, Cas?” croaked Dean.

“Wings,” Cas replied. Cas’ hands drew away from him and a wave of nausea pitched Dean forward again. Cas caught him easily, one hand cradling his back and easing the pain once more, and brought the other forward so Dean could see.

Cas’ fingers were coated with blood...and  _ feathers _ .

“I heard it was possible,” murmured Cas, thumbs kneading at Dean’s back...at his gashes...at his  _ wings _ ??? 

“ _ What  _ was possible?” Dean arched his back into Cas’ touch. He wasn’t sure if Cas’ massaging hands felt good  _ objectively _ , or solely in comparison to the excruciating rending feeling when Cas  _ wasn’t  _ touching him, but he had no desire to suggest Cas stop so he could find out.

“Um...I mean...I never really believed, but…” 

“ _ Talk _ , dude!”

“Supposedly…” Taking a deep breath, Cas rubbed, and through his touch Dean felt how his body had changed: clothes shredded, blood smeared, appendages sprouted...he almost thought he could flex them, if he tried. He wasn’t ready to try...but maybe soon? 

“Theoretically, if a mortal is infused with enough angelic grace, they can manifest nephilic features. Halos. Glowing eyes. Spontaneous Enochian literacy. That kind of thing.”

“And wings?”

“Yes.” There was something in Cas’ tone that Dean couldn’t place; in their years together, he’d thought he’d heard the full range of emotions in Cas’ raspy, expressive voice, but this one eluded Dean. “And wings.”

“How the fuck much grace have you been using to heal me all this time?” Dean demanded. Now that the waves of pain had passed, he actually felt...kind of good? Cas’ fingers trailed over his wounds, presumably healing them with grace, and brushed through his feathers -  _ holy shit, like literally h.o.l.y. shit, I have feathers...I wonder what color they are...fuck, what’s Sam going to say? how is this even real? _ \- and Dean’s stomach swooped as pleasure dissipated his lingering discomfort.

“It, uh...it wasn’t caused by healing,” Cas mumbled. Disgruntled, Dean leaned up and glared at him.  _ Just talk to me, asshole _ , he tried to communicate with a look. Cas replied with a sheepish shrug and a smirk. “You’re the one who insisted we bareback. You said it would feel better...and you weren’t wrong, it felt - feels - incredible - but it  _ does  _ tend to cause my self-control to slip.”

“Wait, wait... _ what _ ?” Dean tried to sit up so he could glare harder - his snuggling up to Cas’ chest and leaning into Cas’ touch like a cat being pet really wouldn’t communicate the full extent of his irritation - but the moment Cas’ touch shifted from Dean’s injuries, his pain intensified again. Surrendering, Dean instead tried to imbue all of his  _ what-the-fuck-ness  _ into his voice. 

“Lemme get this straight. You’ve dumped so much come into my ass that I’ve  _ angelfied _ ?”

“It does appear that way,” replied Cas’ solemnly...but he seemed to be fighting down laughter.

Easy for  _ him  _ to laugh about this, fucking asshole...he wasn’t the one who’d suddenly sprouted goddamn  _ wings _ .

“And you didn’t think to fucking  _ warn me _ that this was a risk?” Damn, now Dean sounded  _ shrill _ , and maybe slightly hysterical.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

He hated feeling out of control.

“I truly didn’t think it was actually possible; the only stories I’ve heard of it happening are apocryphal.”

He hated the incapacitating pain that had left them curled up on the floor together in a seedy motel room.

“However, if you turn around so I can better access the affected area, I promise I’ll get through this. Please?”

He hated the uncertainties of his life.

“...fuckin’...fine, Cas...do your thing...but we’re not done talking about this!”

But oddly, as Cas helped Dean turn, as Cas settled Dean between Cas’ legs, and stripped away the tatters of Dean’s clothes, and used grace to heal and clean and soothe...

“Of course not.”

...Dean entertained the possibility that he  _ didn’t  _ hate his wings.

Was randomly growing wings because he’d spent umpteen years soaking up Cas’ come fucking bizarre?

Yes.

Was it the worst thing that had happened to him this week?

Maybe? There were a couple runners up though.

Was it the worst thing to happen to him  _ ever _ ?

Not. even. close.

“Here - lean on this,” Cas suggested, producing a pillow as though from thin air and passing it to Dean. Tucking the pillow over his crossed legs, Dean leaned forward and let it support his weight, closed his eyes, and  _ felt _ .

Cas’ fingers trailed over sensitive, sensitized skin. With the pain gone, the growth of his wings was clear and rapid: they sprouted from his back, emerging inch by inch, and as they extended, Cas worked.

He righted feathers, and ease tingled down Dean’s spine.

He cleansed blood, and pleasure warmed Dean’s gut.

He stretched strained bones, and Dean got hard.

_ God, this is hot… _

_...and God fucking damn it, why am I like this? _

The wings were so new, so fresh, that every touch was electric, and Cas seemed to know exactly how to touch. 

“You’re doing fine.” Cas sounded affected too, with a lilt of his earlier inexplicable tone mingled with his increasingly obvious arousal. “You’re doing great, Dean.” Lips ghosted a kiss over the top of Dean’s spine as Cas rubbed over the top arch of Dean’s new wings, as Cas’ thumbs preened Dean’s feathers, as Cas’ erection pressed at the base of Dean’s spine.

It was fucking  _ surreal _ .

It was fucking  _ incredible _ .

Cas’ hands shifted away for a moment, and a whimper escaped Dean. There was more what-the-fuckery going on than he could process, but he knew he needed Cas to keep touching him, needed Cas to keep caring for his wings.

“Shh,” whispered Cas soothingly. “I’ll be right back, I swear, I just gotta…”

There was a flash of light - of grace - and a wash of cold air over sensitive skin, and a surge of pleasure, and Dean groaned. 

“...Cas...wha…?”

“Best way to treat the pain and help your body adjust is more grace,” Cas said. Dean groaned again; he knew  _ exactly  _ what that meant, and despite the surreality of the past few minutes, he couldn’t  _ wait _ . Cas’ fingers returned, working at the base of Dean’s wings, and Dean tried to remember the times he’d played with Cas’ wings, tried to imagine what Cas must be doing based on things Dean had done in the past. Cas’ feathers were sensitive...Cas’ skin was soft...and at the bottom of his wings, there were glands…

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Dean moaned. Bliss radiated outward from where Cas touched. Dean had known, from Cas’ reactions, that being touched there must felt good, but he’d had  _ no fucking clue  _ how good.

_ If this is what it’s like to have wings, sign me the fuck up. _

“I know,” said Cas. “And Dean…” He groaned, stopped massaging to loop his arms beneath Dean’s shoulders and hoist Dean into a position that pressed rock-hard exposed cock against Dean’s crack. “...know you couldn’t have wanted this...know it’s a shock...I shouldn’t say…” Unable to stop himself, Dean rocked back, desperate for more pleasure and more touch and more contact, and Cas bit back a gasp. “...but that you get to feel this...that I get to do this for you...I’m so sorry, Dean, but I’m so happy…”

_ So am I.  _ “Fuck me, Cas.”  _ That’s a fuckton to unpack...but truly, so am I.  _ “Please...please... _ please _ …”

Oil skimmed over Dean’s hole, the icy-hot feeling of it familiar, except now it was  _ Dean’s  _ oil, not Cas’, and that was somehow even sexier. With shocking ease, Cas lined himself up and slid into Dean’s body, and Dean trembled, filled, eager to milk Cas dry, desperate to bask in glorious sensation, eager to soak up every bit of grace he could, urgently in need of  _ more _ .

“Please,” whispered Dean, rocking back to take more dick, but it wasn’t enough - something was missing - something--

Cas’ hands left Dean’s hips; his arms wrapped around Dean’s new wings, his fingers nestled amidst Dean’s feathers, and bliss rocketed through Dean so intensely he wasn’t sure he hadn’t come.

“I’ve got you,” Cas breathed into Dean’s spine, sultry breath shifting feathers gloriously. 

With a strained sob, Dean eased up and slammed himself back down. His vision whited out, need overcoming thought.

“Take what you need.”

And yeah, Dean growing wings was  _ fucked _ , but as he fucked himself, up and down, up and down, Dean realized…

“...take such good care of you…”

...he’d never been fucked so good in his whole life…

“...my angel…”

...and he couldn’t  _ wait  _ to feel just how incredible coupling with his angel could be.

“...my  _ Dean _ .”

And Dean was  _ loved _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on social media!  
> Tumblr: [unforth](https://unforth.tumblr.com/) (very multifandom with a decent amount of politics/social justice)  
> Twitter: [unforth](https://twitter.com/unforth) (mostly MDZS/CQL, with a splash of multifandom and also a decent amount of politics/social justice, cause sorry, them's the times)  
> Discord: unforth#6748


End file.
